


Briar-Hearted Beauty

by Selkie_de_Suzie



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Butterfly Bog AU, Fairy!Bog, Goblin!Marianne, Role Reversal AU, Species swap au, butterfly bog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:32:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4500918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkie_de_Suzie/pseuds/Selkie_de_Suzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale can be altered and told many times, but the Love there shall remain unchanged. The grim King of the Fairies goes to do battle with the ferocious young Queen of the Dark Forest…</p>
<p>Written in honor of Strange Magic Week on tumblr, for the challenge of Day One: Butterfly Bog & Role Reversal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

Her snarl is an ugly thing, sharper than any sword his Knights could yield, and Bog curses that his defenses were so weak, so easily overtaken, and now this thorny little beast has come into his Kingdom, and seized a captive –

Not just any captive, though –

_“Ye harm one hair on her head,”_  he snarls, held back by two monstrous goblins, their breath hot and swampish as they pant with each of his struggles – they hadn’t expected him to be so fierce, they had heard that fairies were as soft and tender and pliant as petals and plants, but he is as tough as an old root, scarred and hard and gnarled. He glares up at her from where he kneels,  _a King shall not kneel,_  his eyes icy and blue and venomous,  _“Ah’ll have yer head on a pike, ye beastly, thorn-hearted wench.”_

She laughs at that, and where his eyes are cold, hers are hot with contempt and excitement, burning out of shadows and gleaming with arrogance, knowing that he can do nothing; she has him outnumbered and pinned. She is a contradiction, scales and soft wings, the purple vivid and searing his eyes as she glares down at him, and her contradiction is a heart-rending, terror-inspiring sight.

“Give me what I want,  _Tough Guy,”_  Queen Marianne of the Dark Forest growls, her grin no more than a baring of sharp, wicked teeth, her dark lips stretching across them, “ _or you’ll never see your mother again._ ”

* * *

He has no fear of the Forest, he’s been the King of the Fields far longer than she’s been the Queen of such a dark realm, and he knows both well enough. He slashes out at the creatures around him with his sword, and suddenly she’s there –

And they fight, and her eyes burn like fire and amber with delight and desperation.

“Why do ye need my mother?” He demands, bearing his full weight down her as she glares up at him.

“Why do  _you_  need the Love Potion?” She retorts, her arms shaking under the strain. Despite her fangs and claws and sheer dangerousness, she’s a wee thing, and he uses the advantage that his height gives him for all he’s got.

“I don’t need it!  _I bloody well banned it!”_

“You expect me to believe  _that?!_  The Sugar Plum is one of yours! She’s a Fairy –“

Bog snarls out a laugh at that, and she gives him a wide-eyed look, surprised out of her ferocity at such a harsh, heartbroken sound coming from a Fairy, even if the Fairy in question is dour and grim and sports wings unlike that which have ever been on the species, they almost look like those of a dragonfly –

_“She’s_  a true Fairy,” he says, stabbing his sword into the soil, turning away from her, and she is once more thrown by the sheer disregard he has for his life, “as much as _I_  am.” He gestures to his wings, and then waves at her own. “Are you a true Goblin, your highness?”

She would scratch his eyes out for such a comment – eyes that are the same blue of the sky that burns above the ceiling of the Forest’s leaves – except the quiet grief in the lines of his long, severe face stills something in her. Instead, she looks away. “I’m…different from other goblins.”

He looks at her, and the harsh line of his mouth twists a bit in a smirk. “I’m different from other fairies. And yet here we are, ruling them.”

She doesn’t mean to return his one-sided smile. 

She’s surprised to find, as she studies the sheer blue of his eyes, that she doesn’t care.

* * *

Her eyes no longer scorch with fire, but burn with gentle earnestness. Who would have ever thought a Goblin could be  _gentle?_

“I…I needed a captive, and she was right there, and then…God, is she  _always_ like  _that?”_

He snorts. “Romantic to a fault? Aye…” He looks away and then back at her, where she stands between moonlight and shadow. “Why is the Love Potion such a concern for you?”

“There were…rumors of another Goblin who wishes to use it on me. I…I wanted to prevent that from happening. I almost married him once, before I found out – well, he didn’t love me, and…” She exhales wearily, leaning against the root of a tree. Her voice is a quiet, broken murmur. “I’ve learned my lesson about Love. It’s a beautiful lie, and he was so beautiful…” she sighs, and runs slender claws through the scales that seem to make her hair. “He broke my heart, let’s leave it at that. And even though it’s shattered now, I’ll have it stay  _mine_  and free of any stupid magical dust. ”

“I…I know all about getting your heart broken.” She does not look at him, but her scaly shoulders rise in a wince, and he looks away before giving a dry, pained chuckle. “You never know, the Potion may not work. It’s happened before. That’s… why I wanted to ban it. Why I wanted to take it from you tonight. If there was a chance you would use it…I had to save people that pain.”

She does look up at that, her large eyes even wider. “How would you -?”

“I…there was this girl. The most beautiful creature I ever saw. I was young, and foolish, and desperately in love. Impetuous to a fault. I asked the Sugar Plum to make it for me, but…it didn’t work. These wings, this face…” he waves to the harsh lines, the scars, the severe angles, all which deepen in misery. His voice is soft, and his hand curls into a helpless fist, remembering how that poor, sweet girl ran from him.  “I’m…I’m too hideous to love.”

Claws touch at his wrists gently.

When he looks up, the sight of her pierces his heart as surely as any blade–

_\- it’s not possible for goblins to be this breathtaking, but here she is, moonlight catching on her wings, her eyes glowing soft and amber and earnest, her lips a dark rosebud, even her fangs and her scales and her claws, a stunning bloom with fierce thorns –_

“You’re not hideous,” she says, the truth soft on her tongue as he dazedly drinks her in.

 -  _the silver of the moon and the natural bioluminescence of her Forest illuminates the blue of his gaze, and her heart seizes in her chest, and how strange that a Fairy could make her heart race, raw and angry thing that is was, strange that he should so soothe her, render her as tender and vulnerable as a bud_  –

She looks away, her breath quick. “Let’s…let’s go stretch our wings. Search for that Potion. Your mother can be taken back to your Kingdom. None of my goblins would dare attack her.” She gives a grin, soft and amused. “They’re too scared of her now.”

He chuckles, knowing the undeniable truth to that. “Shall your sister keep her company?” The little Gobliness had surprised him with the sheer sunny enthusiasm that had radiated from her. Funny that a creature of darkness should brim with so much light -  

“Dawn and her will be best friends by moon down, I’m sure.” She flutters her wings, excited. “I want to show you my Forest –“

“I would be honored,” he says gently. “But if we’re to look for the Potion, I think our best bet would be my Fields.”

She pauses at that, her eyes getting a glint to them, her body going as tense as a spider feeling a tremor in its web. “I – I’m not sure –“

He cocks his head at her, surprised at such hesitation from such a flinty little thing. “What’s wrong?”

She bites her lip and looks away. “The Fields – I fell into them once, and the sunlight – I was nearly blinded, and they were so  _open_ , any predator could have seen me, taken me –“

“I know thickets and briars to mask us,” he says, and suddenly it is so  _vitally_ important for her to see his land, for her to witness what he –  _it_  has to offer. “And there’s no sunlight. In fact, the moonlight is… _perfect_ , right now.”

He extends a hand to her, fingers long and strong and gnarled and Fairy,  _timid_ –

She places her hand in his, claws slender warm and twining around his and Goblin,  _certain_  -  

“C’mon, Tough Guy.”

* * *

His land stretches before them, silver and luminous. They fly over it, and her eyes take it all in, enraptured and golden and glowing and god _, did he ever find her beastly? She is, yes, and so **beautiful** - _

She’s a Goblin. He hasn’t forgotten that. She’s a Goblin and she’s making his gnarled old heart ache in ways he had thought were lost to him.

The moonlight is perfect right now, true.

But nothing can compare to the splendor of  _her._

He tucks the bloom behind her ear, and she blushes under the bewitchment of the night sky. Claws touch at where his fingers grazed her cheek, and she smiles gently, her fangs pricking at her lips. 

Bog imagines them at catching at his.

She’s so young, too young for the heartache and loneliness he’s gone through, and he wants to make sure she never goes through it again -

Her tone is soft and tender and teasing as she watches him watch her. “Bog…”

His tone is low and almost hoarse with earnestness, making both of them flush under the cool glow.  _“Marianne –“_

But even the spell of an evening can shatter, and the cry that echoes through the air breaks the silent wonder as surely as a stone chucked into a still pond.

“BOGGY! BOGGY, PLEASE!”

Bog snaps around, sword drawn and wings flaring, and Marianne grabs her scepter as well, and they see her –

The tiny little Fairy crone biting and scratching and giving as much hell as she can to three Goblin males who have her trapped between them, as another Goblin leads them back to the Forest, his steps almost swaggering –

“LET GO OF ME, YA CREEPS!”

_Mother –_

She had been on her way to the Fields –

But Marianne’s sister should have been with her, Marianne said she would –

_Unless she lied –_

And it was a trap –

_She lied and tricked him and agreed to go to the Fields with him so her thugs could steal back his mother, so she would still have a bargaining chip if it all went south –_

Bog nearly sways; he’s so sickened by his utter  _foolishness_.

Marianne reaches out a hand to him, concerned. “Bog, don’t worry, we’ll stop them from hurting –“

The look he gives her stops her dead, it’s so full of agonized fury, and his words nearly scrape her raw with their heartbroken rage.  _“You played me.”_

And she stares at him, her wide amber eyes stunned and uncomprehending as he flies away, away from her and her wide eyes and her lies -

And his heart cracks all over again.  _Fools rush in._

He won’t be made a fool again. 


	2. Part 2

The vines are twisted and gnarled but manageable, and now the goblins do not attack, but Bog is in such a state of rage and grief over his foolish,  _foolish_ trust – 

_How could have he believed she was – how could have he been so **blind** to hope –_

She darts in front of him, her scaly arms spread, her wings flashing out, her eyes desperate.  _“I didn’t know!”_

Bog snarls at her, and in that moment, it’s hard to tell which one of them is the Goblin. “Out of my way,  _your majesty.”_

But she is a determined little thing –  _determined little lair, she played him so well and she thinks she can keep playing him now_  - and blocks him as he tries to get past her. “You’re gonna need backup against Roland! I’m the Queen, I can –“ 

Bog’s laugh is an ugly thing. “And Ah’m th’ Fairy King – Ah can take care of myself. Ah don’t need anyone’s help.” He draws his sword and the moonlight flashes across her wings in a bright and deadly gleam.  _“Least of all yours. Now move, before Ah make ye.”_

Her amber eyes widen in shock – _and_   _hurt?_  – before slitting in offense and stubbornness, and her scepter swings to him. “I won’t let –“

He knocks her out of the way with his pommel into a convenient spider web, and he is sure her cry is one of dismay and frustration rather than pain. Not that he cares.  _She played him and hurt him, why shouldn’t he give retribution_  – 

Later. Now he needs to get to Mother.

He flies off into the dark heart of the Forest, ignoring Marianne’s cries, ignoring the rawness of her voice that so perfectly matches the ache in his heart. “Bog,  _please -!”_

* * *

The castle is moldering majesty, but Bog could care less. He shatters the skylight, his sword drawn, his roar one that promises hell to pay for those foolish enough to cross him.  _“RELEASE MY MOTHER!”_

The Goblin lounging on the throne flinches back from Bog’s sword, and that’s a surprise, he had assumed all of them to have the same ferocious toughness of Mar-their Queen.

_“Hold it!_  Hold it hold it hold it!” The Goblin holds up his claws – and he is a strange looking one, the scales on him almost golden, his eyes a bright and poisonous green – and gestures to his compatriots. They all look quite bedraggled, panting as they hold Griselda between them, and she still struggles against their grip, her size no match for theirs but her ferocity ten times as great. “Your mother is safe. We just wanna make sure that the Potion is delivered to us.” 

He smiles, and his fangs are disgusting, black with rot. “Then we can all –“

**_“ROLAND!”_ **

Freed of the spider web, Marianne swoops down into the room and advances on the Goblin, fury making her scales shift and flare.  _“What are you –?!”_

The Goblin immediately cowers back, but his blackened teeth take on a placating edge.  _“Ahhhh,_  my little nightshade blossom, I – I was just making _sure_  that the King was going to give us the Potion –“

_“To you.”_  Marianne’s voice is a cold snap, and her scales flare once more as she stalks closer to him, her claws flexing as if eager to spill blood. “So you could use it on me, you shallow, power-hungry, cheating,  _chattering, pig-headed, son of a -!”_

_“Is **that**  the guy?!”_ His shock makes him loud, and Bog supposes he shouldn’t sound so aghast, but - _this_  cringing coward is where she laid her affections?

Marianne flushes dark beneath her scales, and she sighs hard. “He played me,” she growls, aiming a venomous glare at the golden Goblin, but the amber of her gaze is beseeching when she turns her eyes on Bog.  _“I’m not like him. I don’t use people.”_

And he can’t look away, can’t help the twinge that goes through his heart at such raw sincerity.  _He won’t be a fool again, but was he a fool to begin with? Had she been true from the start -?_   

The Goblin – Roland – gapes between them, his jaw slack. “Marianne, honey,  _tell_  me that this ain’t a lovers tiff.”

Bog’s entire being goes numb, and Marianne sputters, but Griselda gives a cackle. “I  _told_  ya anyone can see it!”

Roland recoils, glancing aghast at Bog. “Darlin’, what – what  _were_  ya thinkin’, a beauty like you fallin’ for a beast like hi-“

“MARIANNE! SUNNY AND I GOT THE POTION! SUGAR PLUM SHOWED US!” 

The Queen’s sister runs in, her short little friend panting frantically at her heels, and he waves the bottle in his small hands. “She had to get it from the Imp, but it’s all here –!”

Roland reaches out a claw, green eyes gleaming in the pink glow. “I’ll take that-“

And the little goblin holds it out trustingly -

Marianne rushes forward, her fangs bared and her eyes frantic. “Sunny,  _no!”_

But Roland is quick, and the stopper is out –

_\- the cloud of pink dust clouding the poor girl’s eyes, her sweet face twisting in terror as she screamed –_

_Never again._

**_“No!”_ **

Bog throws himself in front of Marianne, knocking the flask back, and he and Roland face off, the Goblin’s snarl matched by his own –

Marianne leaps to his side, her fangs bared.  _“Don’t you touch him!”_

It’s both the command of a Queen and the plea of a lover, and Bog’s traitorous hearts  _jolts_  in his chest -

Griselda chooses this moment to sink her teeth into her captor’s hands and kick a foot into what appears to be the groin of another. As both flail about in pain, she runs to her son.  _“Boggy -!”_

Roland grabs her, and holds a golden claw to her throat, curved and razor sharp, the thin Fairy flesh no defense for it. His rotten grin is smug. “Two against one? Not fair.”

**_“Let her go!”_**   Bog sees red, and fairies aren’t supposed to long to spill blood, but he will have a river of whatever muck runs through this bastard’s veins if he so much as  _touches_  Mother –

_“BK!”_

Bog whips his head around in shock,  _and when did Stuff get here –?!_

The Fairy’s wide face is flushed. “Your highness, RUN! Brutus set off an alarm, this whole place is about to –“

A cracking shudder runs through the whole Castle, and everyone looks up in incomprehension and then ducks as pieces of bark and dust fall,  _crumbling,_ it will crumble and they all be buried in the rubble if they don’t –

Roland shoves Griselda at her son and then grabs Marianne, and she immediately takes to the air, fighting to throw him off. Her cry is barely heard over the cacophony of chaos. “GO! GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN!”

Griselda tugs on her son’s hand, her eyes pleading – her wings no longer work, she needs him to get her out of here.  _“Boggy –“_

Bog grabs her but looks up at Marianne, his heart torn;  _he can’t just leave her_  –

Marianne punches Roland and her eyes burn with desperation as she looks at him one last time, heartbreak on her face.  _“BOG, GO!”_

And Bog’s heart crumbles like the Castle as he heeds the words of the only Queen he could ever want –

And leaves.

* * *

The Castle is in ruins. But its shattered state is nothing compared to Bog’s heart.

He stands at the cliff, looking down sightlessly into the ravine where the wreckage lays, where Marianne’s body will have –

He closes his eyes as her sister sobs, and her small friend comforts her, tears in his eyes as well. Stuff sinks to the ground, shaky, and Thang rushes to her, the small Elf’s eyes wide with relief.  _“Stuff!_  You’re all right! You’re okay -!”

She says something back to him, but Bog can’t give it much attention, can’t focus on anything besides numb disbelief, cold horror that he knows will soon burn away into anguish –

_He only knew her for a night, and now she’s –_

Griselda kneels by him, her red hair mussed and her face smudged with dust, but her eyes gleam with deep pain for her precious boy. “Sweetheart…I’m  _so_  sorry…”

“I knew her for a  _night_ …” Bog says, and his words feel like they’re being etched into granite, it’s so hard for them to come out. “Just a night. How can…” He looks up at his mother, and his eyes burn with a hot wetness.  _“How can it hurt so?”_

She gently brushes her fingers at his eyes before cradling a sharp cheek. “There are no short cuts to Love,” she whispers to him. “But that doesn’t mean that Real Love can’t happen in a short amount of time.” She raises a shoulder, and her smile is so sad. “Even in the space of a moonlit night.”

Bog’s head sinks to his chest, and when Griselda gently wraps her fingers around his, he lets himself be pulled away, away from the grave of the Goblin Queen who had dared to make his cracked old heart feel once more –

There’s a faint flutter behind him, and a fit of coughing. “Not even gonna say good-bye?”

Bog whirls around, his heart in his throat –

Marianne clutches an arm as she flutters down, her claws flexing, the amber of her eyes slitted in pain –

_In pain._

_Alive._

_She’s alive!_

Dawn tackles her in a hug, and Marianne lurches back with a sharp cry. “Gods, Dawn,  _watch it -!”_

But her sister is now sobbing from happiness, and everyone is rejoicing, his subjects and hers. Their cheers can’t even begin to rival the fierce wave of joy in Bog’s heart –

Blue locks with amber, and both of them  _know_ , neither of them can deny –

He shakes off Griselda the same time she ducks away from Dawn, and both of them step towards each other, pulled like moths to flames –

_“Gotcha!”_

Roland jumps down between them and hurls the Potion into her face, his black teeth bared in a grin of triumph.

Marianne reels back, and Bog and Dawn both rush forward at the same time,  _and of all the bloody times for him to trip_  –

They collide, and both of their faces are lost in a glittering pink haze, stinging and sweet –

They open their eyes, blinking, and Bog finds himself staring down into the little Gobliness’s wide blue eyes, and she’s staring back at him –

Roland’s curse is drowned out by Marianne’s horrified  _“No!”_

Bog supposes he should be horrified as well, what with being Dusted –

That is…if he was  _feeling_  any effects of being Dusted –

_Why is he not -?_

And Dawn is  _not_  looking at him with Love, just with the same pure confusion that is racing through him –

Both of their eyes widen with realization.  ** _Oh._**

Dawn’s command is as silent as it is clear, and Bog’s nod could easily be dismissed as a twitch.

They suddenly grasp each other, Dawn’s smile beaming and bright, Bog desperately attempting to mimic it. Given the circumstances, their voices actually sound quite nice together.  _“SUGAR PIE, HONEY BUNCH!”_

Their duet renders the whole crowd silent, and Marianne’s flat  _“…What?”_ carries quite clearly.

_“You know that I love you…”_  Dawn croons, fluttering her eyelashes as she edges towards where Roland is standing, watching them in fascinated horror.

_“Ah can’t help myself…”_  Bog sings back, smiling as love-sickenedly as he can as he guides her the last few steps so that they’re perfectly positioned.

They smile at each other and lean back, still grasping hands, Dawn’s finger tapping out the countdown on his wrist.  _“I…love…”_

Roland has an oddly intrigued look in his bright green gaze. “That is  _disgust_ -“

Bog and Dawn turn in perfect unison and slam their fists into the Goblin’s face, knocking him back into the ravine with a cry, the flask tumbling after him and spilling its sparkling poison everywhere. 

The crowd erupts with more cheers, and Dawn gives slightly breathless laugh as she looks at Bog. “Lucky that Potion didn’t work, huh?”

Bog nods, but looks over to where Marianne is, her mouth hanging open, her eyes meeting his. “Aye…lucky…”

He knew why didn’t work before when  _he_  used it, he’s too hideous for it to work –

But…why did it not work on  _him?_

* * *

“Real Love?” He repeats dumbly.

The Sugar Plum nods, looking very content indeed to be free. “Your first sweetheart was already smitten with someone else. It was  _never_  about you being hideous, your highness.” 

She flits closer, and her sly eyes go over to where Marianne stands, determinedly trying to pretend she’s not watching the Fairy King desperately. “My little brew is a powerful thing indeed, but nothing is stronger than Real Love.”

She smiles, and it’s oddly gentle as she gently pushes him towards the waiting Queen, whose sister is now twined around her friend Sunny – who is apparently far more than a friend now. “Especially one that knows neither Light or Dark. Go to her.”

* * *

Stuff huffs. “So you thought it was okay to try and use the Love Potion on me instead of just  _asking_ me out?”

Thang flinches back, and there is pure regret in his wide eyes before he closes them in a wince. “I’m…I’m sorry…”

“Darn right you should be,” the plump Fairy maiden scowls and crosses her arms, and looks away from the tiny Elf. Still not looking at him, she continues on, her voice harsh. “I like daffodils the best, and blueberries over raspberries, and black berries over either. I don’t like moonlit walks, but I like picnics. And I  _hate_  being serenaded.”

She shoots a haughty look at him. “Use those to start with, okay?” 

Thang gapes up at her, mouthing in awe. “You’re…you’re saying…?”

Stuff snorts before sinking down to his level. “Think I’m being pretty clear,” she says bluntly, before seizing him in a kiss that makes Thang’s eyes pop.

Bog and Marianne turn away, letting the couple have their privacy. Marianne’s claws shift through the scales on her head, and she tucks some behind her ear. “Love is strange…”

Bog smiles, even as his heart begins to twist  to hear her talk about Love. “Yeah…”

She looks up at him, and the timid gleam in her eyes is so unlike her, and oh god, Bog can’t help but find her achingly… _cute_. Heaven help him, he’s lost. 

“You…” she takes a fortifying breath and continues on. “You can…feel free to visit  _whenever_  you like, if…if you want to…”

“Aye…” Bog isn’t able to keep the slight disappointment from his voice. He…he had hoped –

Dawn suddenly lands between them, her eyes full of fond exasperation. “Oh my god, you two.  _Hopeless.”_

“Without a clue,” Griselda agrees, making her way to them, shaking her head.

Dawn clucks her tongue and points to Bog as he and Marianne look between the Fairy crone and the Goblin maiden confusedly. “You get him, I get her.”

“Roger that,” Griselda says cheerfully, and then tugs her son away. “My dear, we need to have a talk.” 

* * *

Marianne clutches her scepter in front of her, her eyes wide and beseeching and so  _beautiful_  it hurts to look at her. 

Luckily, Bog is beginning to realize he might be a masochist.

Her voice is soft and quavering.  _“Wise men say…only…only fools rush in…”_

His heart contracts.  _He knows this song._  A Fairy song –

_A Love song –_

His breath leaves him in a shudder of a gasp.  _Oh…_

Marianne winces, and this is costing her  _so much_ , this fierce girl with all her walls, all her prickly scales, laying her briar-heart bare for him.  _“But…I can’t help…f-falling -”_

She stops and takes a shaky inhale, closing her eyes, and tries again.  _“Falling in…love…with –“_

Bog’s kiss stops her. 

Marianne’s eyes pop open only to sink back closed in blissful surrender, melting against him as they lose themselves to each other, the happy sighs of his mother and her sister easily ignored.

When they finally part for breath, Bog’s grin threatens to split his face. “Maybe  _I_ should take it from here, aye?”

Her fangs gleam as she smiles back, her eyes glowing gold with love. “Be my guest, Tough Guy.”

He pulls her back, and this time the song is even softer, brushing over her dark lips, the words just for them. 

_“Wild thing…ye make my heart sing…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Lord, this has been a long time coming! I hope it was worth the wait!


End file.
